


Zig and Zag

by merriman



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bookstores, M/M, Past Meetup, Secret Societies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 23:46:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13064706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merriman/pseuds/merriman
Summary: In 1980, Duncan MacLeod jumped on a tour boat to get away from Kuyler. What if he hadn't? What if he'd found a little out of the way bookshop instead? A bookshop where Adam Pierson is trying very hard to get himself into the Watchers.





	Zig and Zag

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dkwilliams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dkwilliams/gifts).



> I've probably taken liberties with the geography of Paris and for that I apologize. The timeline, however, should match up relatively well.
> 
> Many thanks to my beta, who is more patient than I deserve.

1980 - Paris

While Methos hadn't planned on getting a job at the bookstore, he'd made the mistake of going on about the many and sundry failings of modern bookbinding and planned obsolescence and the horrors of dog-eared pages. Then he'd purchased several books, all in different languages, and the next time he'd come in he'd mentioned them off hand and the store's owner had hired him then and there.

Really, all he'd wanted to do was try to convince the guy that Adam Pierson might make a good student or protegé to eventually take under his wing in the Watchers. Ever since he'd moved to Paris, Methos had been on the lookout for a Watcher to attach himself to. They were ubiquitous, but it wasn't like he could just walk up to one and ask to join their secret club. No no, he had to put himself in the right place at the right time with the right person. And Donald Salzer had seemed to be the right person. He loved nothing more than talking about history and books and research and that was perfect.

"Adam, come see this," Don called from somewhere in the far reaches of the shop. It was a bit of a labyrinth, full of dead ends and hidden treasures. 

Methos picked his way through the stacks and found Don with a book open on a tiny stand at the end of one of the bookcases.

"What is it?"

Don gestured to the book. "It's exquisite, isn't it?"

Methos looked at it closely. Don wasn't wrong. It was a lovely piece of craftsmanship.

"Where did you get it?" he asked.

"I bought it off that surly gentleman who was in the other day. Horrible little man, but he sold this for a song, so I can't complain."

Methos frowned. "Better make sure it's not stolen," he muttered. "I'm going to go see if I can do anything about putting that folklore section in some semblance of order." 

Don waved him off, still examining his prize, and Methos headed back towards the front of the store.

He'd only just figured out his plan of attack for the folklore books - which were an almost-hopeless mish-mash of time periods and cultures - when he felt the distinctly unwelcome buzz of an Immortal drawing close. He'd barely had time to get up and trip his way out from behind the piles of folktale books when a man barrelled into the store and then froze, staring at him.

"I'm Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod," the man said. Which was utterly unnecessary, because Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod was famous and Methos knew precisely who he was, thanks to friends like Darius and Rebecca, not to mention previous stints in the Watchers in centuries past. But Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod couldn't be faulted for not knowing that.

"Adam Pierson, bookstore clerk" Methos said. "Any chance you're not leading someone troublesome into this shop?"

Duncan glanced out the front window, then looked back at Methos and shrugged. "Doesn't look like it. I must have lost him."

"Good. I'd rather not have any trouble, thank you very much." God's honest truth. Methos had managed to avoid taking any heads for a while now and he'd quite been looking forward to continuing to avoid it. Hence the whole attempt to get on Don's good side and into the Watchers, where he'd be expected to very much _not_ associate with Immortals.

Except Duncan MacLeod was smiling at him and by all the gods he'd ever worshipped, Methos had not been fully prepared for that. No Chronicle he'd read or photo he'd seen had really done that justice. Shit.

"What makes you think I'd be trouble?" Duncan asked, still smiling. A moment ago he'd been fleeing from someone and now here he was, standing in the bookstore like he was a regular customer, smiling at an Immortal he'd never met. Methos was pretty sure the man was impossible.

"I know trouble when I see it," Methos muttered. "I'm not as young as I look."

"Adam?" Don's voice came from the back of the store. "Is everything all right out there?" 

"Grab some coffee with me later and we can talk?" Duncan asked. Methos found himself nodding, whether because he genuinely wanted to or just to forestall more conversation in front of Don, he wasn't sure.

"Great," Duncan said, turning his smile towards Don as he emerged from the stacks. 

To his credit, Don didn't even hesitate when he saw who was standing there in the front of his store. He just smiled back and glanced at Methos. "Are you busy? I can take care of this customer," he offered.

"Oh, I was all set," Duncan told him. "Nice shop here. Good selection." He plucked a book off one of the shelves nearby and glanced through it, then held it up. "I'll take this."

Duncan stuck around a bit, every so often peeking out the front window when he didn't think Methos was looking. Methos went back to working on the folktales and Duncan hovered, asking questions and being generally pleasantly distracting. When he realized that Methos was set to work for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening he left for a few minutes and returned with coffee for both Methos and Don. Then he sat and chatted with Methos while Methos went through a shipment of books they'd bought from a seller overseas. They made plans before Duncan left, maybe dinner or something, ostensibly because Duncan was new in town and "Adam" would show him around.

Eventually, when Duncan MacLeod (of the Clan MacLeod) was gone, and Methos was putting the new stock away, Don came up to the front of the store and stopped to watch him for a bit.

"Look, Adam, I have some things I need to take care of this evening," he said while Methos shifted a shelf's worth of books to fit two more in where they belonged. "Would you mind locking up?"

* * *

In the morning, Methos went and opened the shop as usual. A few of the regulars who just liked to come in and read showed up and a couple of customers came in looking for various books or just advice. Don arrived around noon and he and Methos worked for a few hours until the door opened and in walked a police officer. Methos took one look at the man and knew without a doubt that this was Duncan MacLeod's fault.

"Is one of you the proprietor?" the officer asked.

Don got up from his seat and walked over. "That would be me. Donald Salzer. And you are?"

"LeBrun, with the Paris Police," the officer said. "I have a few questions about a man who might have come in here yesterday."

"We had quite a few people in here yesterday, didn't we, Adam?" Don asked, looking to Methos. 

Methos nodded. "We did," he agreed. "Could you narrow it down?"

LeBrun scowled a little but was undeterred. "He would be about 30, around my height, long dark hair, perhaps wearing a knit hat? This would have been mid-afternoon. He was a witness to a crime and we would like to find him, for his own safety, of course."

"Of course," Don agreed. "Well, Adam, did we have anyone like that?"

"We had that one man with a hat, but he was a customer," Methos said. "I couldn't be sure it's the man you want."

"Did you by chance get a name?" LeBrun asked. 

"Ah…" Don looked to Methos again and Methos shook his head.

"He paid cash."

LeBrun didn't stay much longer. He asked again if they remembered anything, pressed for details on what had been purchased, asked if they'd seen another man perhaps chasing the man in the hat, then left his contact information with them.

"Well. That was interesting," Don said when LeBrun had gone. "I think perhaps your new friend might be in some trouble."

Methos frowned. "I certainly hope not," he said. Because trouble was what he was trying to avoid, and this fairly reeked of it, which meant Methos wanted to steer well clear. Still, he did think it might be a good idea to at least warn Duncan about LeBrun looking for him. 

"Look, Adam," Don said, drawing Methos aside towards the desk. "I'd like to talk to you about something. I was going to wait, but I don't think that's a good idea now."

Don took a seat and unlocked a cabinet next to the desk. Methos hadn't really ever bothered to look inside, though the lock wasn't all that impressive. Maybe he should have. When Don opened the cabinet door Methos could see at least six Watcher Chronicles inside.

"I have something to show you," Don said, taking out one of the Chronicles. "Duncan MacLeod isn't quite who he says he is. Or, well, he is indeed Duncan MacLeod, but he's not just some young man who witnessed a crime. He's different. He's quite different." Don handed the Chronicle to Methos.

"What's this?" Methos asked. As if he had no idea. As if he hadn't written some of these himself once upon a time.

"It's a chronicle of Duncan MacLeod's life. Well, some of it in any case. I have it on loan from a friend. You see, he's actually about 400 years old."

This was supposed to be a major revelation to young Adam Pierson, so Methos did his best to stare at the book in disbelief. This also wasn't supposed to happen so soon. Methos had assumed it would be another six months or more before Don trusted him enough. He'd figured he might need to feign witnessing something to get Don to tell him about Immortals at all. But here he was, just handing over a Chronicle.

"He's what?" Methos asked as he opened the book.

"He's Immortal," Don told him. "I promise you, Adam, I'm not a crazy old man. But I want you to be aware, before you get mixed up in that world. It's dangerous! MacLeod was running from a man who has killed people before. Quite a few people. Innocents."

So, not going into the details about swords and beheadings and all of that. Probably for the best, Methos figured. Or it would have been for Adam Pierson. 

"And you what? Write books about them?"

"We do," Don told him. "Myself, many others. We watch them. The Immortals. Their lives need documenting and since they live in secret, it takes a secret society to chronicle their deeds."

Methos carefully paged through the book Don had handed him. It wasn't a terribly old one, but it wasn't from the current century either. He read a few passages about Duncan's past, then closed the book again.

"Why are you showing me this?" Methos asked Don. "You could have just warned me away from him without explaining all of this."

Don nodded and took the book back from Methos and locked it up again. Methos sat down on a stool by the desk and watched him.

"It's true," Don said after a while. "I could have just said I'd seen him around town, or that I've heard his name from friends in the police. But Adam, I think perhaps, if you are interested, you might be quite good at what I do. Better than me, certainly, in the long run. You show promise. I might have waited, but MacLeod is here, now. You'd likely find out sooner, rather than later. And I'd rather not see you get hurt."

Methos wasn't entirely certain what sort of hurt Don meant. At face value? Don obviously knew that mortals hanging around Immortals often got used as pawns by enemies. But then too, Don wasn't as staid as some might assume. He'd probably seen MacLeod flirting - because there was no way he hadn't been flirting - and known it for what it was. And been quite certain that innocent young Adam Pierson who'd only gone on two dates in the year he'd been working at the shop was in no way prepared to date Duncan MacLeod. Don's intent was fatherly enough, just ill-informed.

"So what?" Methos asked. "I join up with some secret society and I'm… safe somehow?"

Don shrugged. "I wouldn't say entirely safe," he admitted. More points to Don, then, for honesty. "Field agents, the ones who actively track Immortals, put themselves at risk all the time. But I have you pegged as a researcher, Adam. You'd be well out of their way. But then you also couldn't speak to MacLeod again. We don't associate with them or they might try to use us against each other."

Methos nodded. As far as Don knew, Adam Pierson needed someone to look out for him. He was supposedly young and not very experienced when it came to either making friends or dating. For a moment, he put himself in Don's shoes. Here he was with an assistant he'd been mentoring, and now that assistant had made friends with a 400 year old man with a habit of chopping off people's heads. No matter how honorable a man Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod was supposed to be, that wasn't the sort of person you wanted your protegé getting involved with, as friends or as something more.

"So you do research?" Methos asked him. "What sort of research?"

Don smiled, Methos having clearly hit on one of his favorite questions. "Ah! See, this is where I think you would excel! I research Immortals so old, we're not certain they're still alive. These people go back for thousands of years, Adam! At the moment, I'm tracing references to some of the oldest of them."

Methos stared at him. Had he actually lucked into meeting the person they had researching _him_? That could be good - he'd be in the best of positions to keep his own secret. Or it could be bad - Don might know enough even now to figure it out if Methos wasn't incredibly careful. "Might I think about it?" Methos asked. "This is a lot to take in."

Don gave him an understanding smile and a pat on the shoulder. "Of course," he assured Methos. "Go home, think this over. If you decide not to join us, I must ask that you say nothing to anyone, especially Duncan MacLeod."

"Sure, right, yes," Methos agreed. "I won't say a word."

* * *

"So here's the situation," Methos said as he let Duncan into his apartment. He'd taken a day off work, sat at home thinking and going through some of his older journals from the last time he'd spent in the Watchers, and realized he had no idea what to do. But he did know that Duncan MacLeod was not the sort of guy to try and co-opt Watchers or hunt them down. He might not like being spied on, but he wasn't the type to hurt mortals. That much, Methos knew. He defended mortals. That was kind of a big part of his reputation.

"There's a situation?" Duncan asked. He was looking around Methos' apartment as if it would give him some sort of clue as to who Adam Pierson was under it all, but Adam Pierson wasn't any deeper than he had to be. At least, not upstairs on the main floor.

"There is," Methos told him. "Have a seat, please. First of all, the police are looking for you because of whatever or whoever you were running from the other day. Second, have you ever heard of a group called the Watchers?"

Duncan shook his head as he sat down. "No. Who are they?" Clearly, he wasn't concerned about the police.

"Historians, mostly," Methos said. "And private investigators. And sort of undercover journalists? They study us."

Duncan was frowning a little, which was a bad sign, but Methos kept going. Better to just get it all on the table now and have done with it.

"Think of it this way: If you lost your head tomorrow, who would know all the things Duncan MacLeod did? Mortals get obituaries and memorials. Immortals? We have to hide our pasts because there's just too much of it. Watchers keep it all recorded. They don't interfere! They just… keep an eye on us."

"How do you know about them?" Duncan asked. He leaned forward, intent on Methos. 

"Well, see, I've known about them for a long time. Centuries, really. I worked as one a long time ago." No need to explain how long ago he'd first learned about them. "We're not supposed to know about them and they're not supposed to talk to us."

"Too many of us would try to use them," Duncan guessed. "You could find out plenty… Is there someone watching me? Do you know?"

Methos nodded. He'd considered that, but his apartment was fairly well soundproofed and he'd rather publicly made plans with Duncan a few days earlier. He could always explain it if he had to. If he made that choice. 

"There's one on most of us. Except not me. They don't know I'm Immortal." Methos paused, going to pour himself a drink and holding up an empty glass for Duncan. 

"Sure, thanks," Duncan said. "So they don't know about you?"

Methos shook his head. Some of it was luck, of course, but he'd laid the groundwork early on. "No. And I'd planned on trying to join up with them. Stay out of the way in the best hiding place possible short of a cave on holy ground. But that means this is it. They'll know if I talk to you." He handed Duncan one glass and then went to sit down with his own in hand.

Duncan considered all of this, then smiled slowly. "You're saying your big conflict, the situation at hand, is that you can't decide between me and these Watchers?"

"Well, yes," Methos said. He'd thought it was obvious but not necessarily funny. Unless he'd misread Duncan entirely. That was a possibility. He didn't think he'd been that far off, but then, well, Don wasn't entirely wrong in thinking that Adam didn't have much dating experience. Adam truly didn't. Methos did, but not recently. And now Duncan MacLeod was laughing at him. It was like being a teenager, if television and movies were to be believed. Methos himself didn't much remember his teenage years. Probably for the best if they'd been the Bronze Age equivalent of this. "What?" he asked as Duncan continued to grin.

"Well, you've been planning this for a while, right? But you've only just met me," Duncan explained. "And this is that much a conflict? I must have made quite an impression. It's flattering, really."

Methos stared at him, then downed his drink in one gulp. He wasn't wrong. That was the galling part. Duncan wasn't even remotely wrong. Anyone else, he'd have just walked away. Joined the Watchers without a backwards glance. But here he was agonizing over it.

"Look, maybe I'm reading too much into this," Duncan said. "But if you want, I could try to help you decide. Tonight."

Methos had to laugh now himself. If Duncan stayed the night, the decision was made. And the more he thought about it, the more certain he was. Sure, he could hide. He could join the Watchers and keep an eye on Duncan from afar. But he'd miss this chance, right now. 

"I think I'd like that," Methos told him. "I'll have to give the Watchers my regrets."


End file.
